Free Agent
by shanejayell
Summary: A down on her luck former hero is offered a job. NOW OVER.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or concepts of the Nightside, they all belong to Simon R. Green. Roxanne Lake, however, IS my character and I request that you not use her without permission, okay?

Nightside: Free Agent

Roxanne Lake wasn't a hero, at least not in the conventional term of the word. Yes, she had been to the Adventurers Club and was still a member in good standing, had fought monsters of various types, saved princes and princesses and so on and so forth, but her crusading days were long behind her now. Old failure and bad memories hung over her like a shroud as she drank in the back tables of Strangefellows, the oldest bar in the world.

A lot of things have been said about Strangefellows, some of them even true. You can meet almost anyone there, going up or falling down, and it was neutral territory, or at least as close to neutral territory as you could find in a place like the Nightside. It was run by Alex Morrisey, a miserable pain in the arse who was a descendent of Merlin Satanspawn himself, whom was also buried under the bar itself. Alex would serve you anything, pretty much, but it paid to look at the label and to be sure you wanted whatever you asked for.

Roxanne's red hair fell in a messy ponytail as she poured some cheap rum from the bottle into a glass, studying the off-red fluid for a moment before throwing it back. She wore a leather jacket, with much wear at the elbows and a few obviously fixed tears, along with simple blue jeans and a T-shirt. Despite her drinking she still looked pretty fit, her skin tight from exercise and possibly not getting quite enough to eat. Oddly on the seat beside her was a sword, sheathed, that almost seemed to shimmer in the dim light of the bar.

Roxanne looked up to see John Taylor leaving and sneered, though she didn't do so obviously. She wasn't terminally stupid, after all. John Taylor was a force in the Nightside, and some would even claim he was a Power. The last son of Lilith, it was said, prince and future King if he should get off his ass and finally claim the title. Yet for years he had fled the Nightside, living in normal London and scraping by in a living, hiding from himself. No matter how far Roxanne fell she knew she wouldn't leave the Nightside, it was her home.

Taking another drink Roxanne relaxed, at least as much as someone with her training could relax. Time passed by and a young woman hurried down the stairs into Strangefellows, so clean and shiny she stood out immediately. Long blonde hair shimmered over her shoulders, the face peering out more cute than beautiful. She wore a business woman's costume but didn't look hard enough to be a corporate shark, instead a assistant or secretary. She looked around her worriedly them walked up to the bar, taking to Alex in a low voice.

After a few moments the blonde looked around the bar, then with a determined stride walked over to the back table which Roxanne sat at. Ignoring her for the moment Roxanne finished her drink off, sitting the glass down on the table. Not wanting to seem too eager Roxanne took her time as she looked up at the woman, "Yes?"

"Your associate there, Mr Morrisey, suggested I talk to you," the woman started out nervously. She took a steadying breath, "I need protection."

Roxanne's lips twitched in amusement as anyone calling Alex a associate, but she kept a serious look on her face. "What sort of protection, Miss...?" she asked.

"Gwen," she answered quietly, "Gwen de Veir. I need protection to reach the church of Saint Jude, preferably before midnight."

THAT made Roxanne raise her eyebrows slightly. The church of Saint Jude was SERIOUS mojo, a place where you could literally talk to God himself. And not one of the fakes on the Street of Gods, but the real, divine being in all his glory. However you often heard back things you didn't want to hear, and desperate prayers could be answered with a distressing sort of literalness. The church also moved around to where it was needed, but usually could only be found in the less wealthy and more needy parts of the Nightside.

Roxanne didn't ask why the woman wanted to go there, that wasn't her business. "Would there be opposition?" she asked thoughtfully.

"I don't know," Gwen admitted as she fidgeted nervously, "it's urgent to me, but I don't know who else might be interested."

Roxanne frowned to herself thoughtfully. The case sounded interesting, and she absolutely hated cases like that. There was sure to be betrayal, death, dark magic and heroism to do, and none of those things interested her in the slightest anymore. On the other hand, she was running low on beer money and the rent was due....

Calmly Roxanne quoted a price payable in advance, lower than Taylor's but not cheap and winced as Gwen paid immediately. 'Should have asked for more,' she thought as she rose, smoothly slinging her sword over her shoulder. "Come on," she told Gwen as they walked out of Strangefellows together, "we need to find Saint Jude's and I don't know how long we have."

"But it was only nine in the evening when I came into the Nightside," Gwen said as she followed Roxanne out to the street.

"It's always night in the Nightside, time is fluid in here," Roxanne said calmly as they walked past closed up homes and open shops selling everything from cheap glamor to used futures, "and it's always midnight somewhere."

A main street of the Nightside was a mad and chaotic thing, vibrant with life. Cars and things that just looked like cars raced by without ever stopping, while other craft shifted and slithered along the roads. The street was lined with glittering shops offering every sin and temptation imaginable, along with a few you might not even conceive of. It blasted away with light and sound, deafening and blinding the unwary.

Roxanne whistled loudly, the tone cutting through the volume a moment as a figure forced it's way through the busy cars. The black steed drew a carriage behind it, a older man with a shotgun laying across his lap as he reached them.

"Hello, Rozy," the horse said cheerfully, nuzzling at the tall woman's cheek.

"Hey, Beauty," Roxanne smiled as she scratched behind his ears. She looked first at him then the man on the carriage, "We need to head out to the bad side of town, specifically Saint Jude's. You two up to it?"

"It gonna be dangerous?" the driver hawked and spat on the road, hitting a car that skidded and crashed with a loud bang, bursting into flame up the street.

"Of course," Roxanne shrugged as if it was a question she got asked everyday.

"Good," Beauty agreed, "get in. Usual rates, of course."

Gwen had a faintly stunned look on her face as they climbed into the carriage and rode off. "The horse talks?" she asked mildly.

"He's a refuge from fame, I hear," Roxanne said as they bulldozed their way through traffic. "Whatever happened to him made him into a kind of irresistible force. If he wants to go somewhere, he can go there pretty much."

"Black... Beauty?" Gwen murmured, eyes widening a bit.

"Don't mention that in front of him," Roxanne said dryly, "it annoys him greatly."

"I can imagine," Gwen blinked.

The ride through and out of town was as interesting as was usual, with various cannibal cars trying to jump them, modern highwaymen trying to rob them and the general Nightside chaos about. When traveling the Nightside it paid to be well armed and paranoid, not always in that order. But through all of the chaos Roxanne got that eerie prickling at her neck and the distinct feeling that they were being followed.

"Yo, Clancy!" Roxanne stuck her head out the window, holding on carefully so she didn't get yanked out by the wind or another vehicle.

The white haired old man nodded as he warily kept a eye out, rifle resting against his shoulder in a familiar way. "I know, we're being followed," he said with a scowl, "but they're pros. Can't even get a good shot at 'em."

Roxanne made a fast decision, "Drop us near Jude's and split."

"You sure?" Beauty asked, "We still owe you for stopping that fangirl from kidnapping me back to star in another book...."

"If me and the sword can't handle it, we're all dead anyway," Roxanne said dryly, "besides, I want you guys alive to avenge me. Fair?"

"Will do," Clancy agreed glumly.

They rumbled to a stop on a street that had seen better years and the only shops were to sell to people so poor they were desperate. Roxanne stepped out first, looking about warily even as she helped Gwen get out too. There was a tingle in the air, a feeling of reverence, and she knew the church they were looking for was nearby.

"Are we there?" Gwen asked nervously, the blonde tense by Roxanne's side.

"Nearly," Roxanne answered, "but it looks like we were followed."

Almost like they were waiting for the cue three large, heavily muscled men moved forward from the shadows as Roxanne grabbed Gwen and bolted. "Aren't you going to fight them?" Gwen demanded as they ran around a corner and came upon the church.

"Only when I have to," Roxanne answered as they ran along the fence.

The church of Saint Jude wasn't a shining cathedral or at all fancy looking. Instead it was a plain, four walled building with a deeply solid feel, as if it had stood there for many, many years. Yet it also carried with it a aura of both peace and danger, as if mysterious powers rested within it that were far too dangerous to trifle with.

"Go in," Roxanne pushed the door open with a shoulder even as she drew her sword, turning around to face the men walking warily up the path.

"But what about you...?" Gwen hesitated in the doorway, looking at Roxanne with a startling degree of concern.

Roxanne hefted the blade with surprising ease, her expression intent. "Get whatever you need to do in there done," she ordered as she added confidently, "I'll be here when you get out."

Gwen nodded and went in, then Roxanne faced their pursuers. They were big men, leg breakers for somebody probably, and whoever had equipped them with protective spells too. Yep, someone had paid a pretty penny to go after Gwen, but clearly they hadn't payed enough.

"One chance, fellows," Roxanne ordered, "walk away."

The big men looked down at her, then the tallest of the three began to laugh. "Oh really?" he chuckled, "You and your big sword are warning us away?" He looked amused as he added, "Lady, you're no John Taylor."

He didn't even see the blow coming that sliced right through the protective spell and shattered his muscular arm. Roxanne was a blur as she used the flat of her blade to slam another man aside, swiftly kicking the third right in the nuts. She beat on all three mercilessly, not killing but certainly making them hurt and remembering not to fuck with her again.

Picking up the man with the bleeding nose and broken arm Roxanne smiled, "What was that about me not being John Taylor?"

"Don't kill us, miss!" one man whimpered.

Roxanne shook the injured man as she demanded, "Why are you chasing after Gwen?"

"I dunno," he blubbered, "there was a guy who paid cash! That's all I know!"

"Damn it," Roxanne kicked him aside, knowing that there were plenty of men who would take a job just like that. She stalked toward the church, opening the door then froze.

"... and what you seek is nearer at hand than you think," the voice came from the shining light, "Guinevere, wife of Arthur."

'Well, damn,' Roxanne blinked, a little surprised she hadn't noticed that. 'I should probably turn in my PI's license,' she mused as a noticeably bedraggled Gwen walked out from the church.

"You heard?" Gwen asked quietly.

"Yeah," Roxanne decided it was simpler to tell the truth. "You looking for Arthur?" she asked curiously.

"Lancelot," Gwen blushed, "I may have married Arthur, but I loved him."

Roxanne thought about asking how she could still be around, but figured she'd seen stranger things over the years. "So I guess you have to keep looking for him," she said as they walked out of the courtyard together.

"I intend to," Gwen said with calm determination. She looked up at the slightly taller Roxanne, "I don't suppose I could keep you on retainer?"

Roxanne Lake, who's ancestors once had been called 'du lac' shrugged slightly. "Maybe so," she admitted, "they're something I like about you."

"Then let's go," Gwen smiled as they walked away together.

End.

Notes: Yes, Roxanne is either a reincarnation of Lancelot herself and/or a descendant. Gwen de Veir IS a obvious alias but Roxanne is a pretty straight forward girl, more hired muscle than a investigator.


	2. Chapter 2

Nightside: Free Agent

Two

As Roxanne Lake followed behind Suzie Shooter, she fought the urge to fangirl madly. Suzie shooter, also known as Shotgun Suzie and _Oh god! It's her! Run! _was a legend in the bounty hunting/retrieval agent/mercenary community. She was a relentless tracker, incredibly dangerous with her shotgun and grenades, never gave up and usually brought in her targets dead because there was less paperwork that way.

'And I get to work with her,' Roxanne thought, hiding a smile. Not to mention the blond haired valkyrie was damn attractive, in a cold way.

Walker had called out all the mercenaries, bounty hunters and similar ilk to deal with a infestation of a Springheel Jack meme. The meme was infecting people and making them over into knife wielding maniacs, and Walker's usual people were getting overwhelmed. So, it looked like the bloody dangerous work would fall to them.

"All aright everyone, listen up," John Taylor called, the dark haired man dressed in his famous white trench coat. He and Suzie were supposed to be a couple, Roxanne had heard, but she wasn't sure she believed it. "Supposedly Walker has made us immune to the meme, but if you see someone acting strange, tell me. I might be able to root out the meme if we catch it fast enough."

'And if not Suzie will blow your head off,' Roxanne thought to herself grimly, but she didn't say it aloud. She wasn't that dumb.

"We're going out there to contain the spread of the meme and stop the infected," John added grimly, "watch each others' backs and hopefully we'll all go home for dinner."

'Hopefully,' Roxanne echoed wryly.

The streets of the Nightside were always somewhat insane, with crowds of people eagerly seeking their own personal damnation, and roads clogged with cars fighting out some Darwinian battle for survival. But now the streets were eerily quiet, except for the sounds of screams off in the distance, coming closer.

Then in a moment they emerged from around a corner, a veritable army dressed in black cloaks and top hats, carrying razor sharp blades. They cried out something then leaped, slashing madly at the front rank even as the fighters tried to recover from the surprise.

"Damn it," Roxanne drew her sword from over her shoulder even as the first Jacks reached her. The blades were fast but she was faster, cutting down one man as she dodged another strike.

The woman Jack moved gracefully but her pretty face was twisted with fury. "Die, whore!" she chanted madly, jabbing and thrusting.

BOOM! The shotgun blast took the woman's head off, splattering those nearby with blood. "Don't play with them," Suzie growled, "there are more Jacks arriving all the time."

"Thanks," Roxanne answered, hammering another in the face with the hilt of her sword.

The slaughter of those infected went on and on, and even Roxanne was getting tired of swinging her sword. The dead would haunt her later, she knew, these seemingly normal people transformed against their will into killers.

Roxanne saw a woman with twin pistols, firing with her back to her as a Jack raced up. "Look out!" she warned even as she struggled to get near.

The woman wheeled about and fired both pistols, then flashed a grin. "Thanks," the slim brown haired woman nodded.

The fighting raged on until the timeslip where the meme originated was finally shut down. Then all that remained was the grim work of finishing off the Jacks and tallying the wounded and the dead. Roxanne had nearly collapsed on the street, sitting on the sidewalk and leaning back against a building as she tried to catch her breath.

Later on Roxanne heard it was Taylor himself who shut the timeslip down, but she wasn't sure she believed it. The man was giver credit or blame for a lot of stuff, and it was too damn hard to separate out the fact and the fiction.

"Roxanne, damn it!" a familiar voice cursed and she looked up, blinking as Gwen de Veir pushed through the milling mercenaries to head for her side, the woman dressed in a stylish skirt and blouse combo.

"Hi, Gwen," she smiled faintly, "fancy seeing you here."

"Why didn't you tell me Walker hired you for this?" Gwen demanded as she looked Roxanne over with a frown. "Oh hell, you're bleeding!"

It was at that moment that Roxanne realized the dull pain down her side wasn't just stressed muscles, but instead a knife cut. "Damn," she noted as she looked at her bloody side, "must have gotten through when I wasn't looking."

"Get up," Gwen ordered as the smaller blond took some medical supplies from a nearby passerby then set to work taking care of the wound. Thankfully the cut wasn't deep, and it was a simple matter to tape the cut closed then wrap a bandage around it.

Roxanne smiled down at the smaller woman as she said quietly, "Thanks."

Before Gwen could continue to question her they saw Walker making his way through the crowd of mercenaries, passing out envelopes with their pay. Despite the bloody battlefield and the destruction around them he still looked every inch the proper English gent, right down to his crisp tie.

"Good work, Ms. Lake," he nodded respectfully as he passed over the envelope of English pound notes. Walker nodded to Gwen, "Ms. De Veir, charmed."

Gwen jerked, "How do you know my name?"

Walker smiled faintly and tipped his hat to her, "Dear lady, I know everyone's name. It's part of the job." With that, he sauntered off.

"That was creepy," Gwen said, shaking her head. She looked at Roxanne and asked, "How are you holding up?"

"A bit wobbly," Roxanne admitted as they started off together, "but I'll be fine." She looked around, "I figure most everyone is headed for Stangefellows. Want to stop in?"

"Yeah, just promise you won't spend all your wages there," Gwen said as they walked together.

"Yes, mother," Roxanne rolled her eyes even as she considered the odd partnership they had formed.

Back at the end of the 'St Jude' case she had agreed to be on retainer to Gwen, and the two started hanging out together a bit. All professional, since Roxanne didn't know for certain that the bad guys had stopped chasing Gwen. At the same time Gwen noted that Roxanne's career as a mercenary had fallen on tough times, and had apparently decided to become her agent.

So gradually, then more and more often, Gwen started finding work for Roxanne. At first Roxanne kind of resented it, but to be honest she preferred being busy. So she took the jobs and started to rebuild her reputation, and Gwen took a cut as well as acting as her general secretary and assistant.

'I wonder if Taylor has to put up with things like this?' Roxanne wondered as they took the steps down into Strangefellows, the oldest bar in the world.

John Taylor and Suzie Shooter were drinking at a back table, both looking rather grim. Which Roxanne couldn't really blame them for, considering. Yes they had won, but a hell of a lot of relatively innocent people had been killed, either possessed by the meme or killed by the rampaging Jacks.

"Oh hell it's you two again," Alex Morrisey muttered, the tall man dressed in black right down to the beret hiding his bald spot. "If you start another fight in here, Gwen, you are barred!"

"It wasn't my fault," Gwen complained as she and Roxanne bellied up to the bar.

Roxanne was grinning as she asked Alex, "What did she do?"

Alex scowled as he cleaned a glass, "Seems Miss Gwen took offense to one of Baron Frankenstein's creations grabbing her ass, so she hit him with a chair."

"And the head bounced off and hit someone's drink," Gwen sighed glumly.

"And they took offense," Roxanne guessed.

"You got it," Alex agreed, "the bastards nearly totaled the bar, damn it." He looked at Roxanne, "Keep your girlfriend on a leash, next time."

"She's not my girlfriend," Roxanne started.

"I'm not her...," Gwen started, then trailed off.

Roxanne smiled, "But I'll think about the leash."

"Hey!" Gwen yelped, then kicked Roxanne in the ankle.

"Oww!" Roxanne winced, "Take it easy, I'm wounded."

"Wounded in the head, maybe," Alex muttered as the two women collected their drinks and headed for a empty table.

Several nuns from the Salvation Army Sisterhood were collecting for charity by force, but a glare and a hand on Roxanne's sword frightened them off. They moved on to threaten two werewolves with mange, who willingly passed some money over to get them to go away.

Gwen sat opposite Roxanne, sighing as she sipped her drink. Roxanne sat back, letting the day's worries sort of slide away for awhile. "Have I apologized for rushing off to do Walker's bidding?" she asked mildly. "Not that I had a choice, you do not say no to Walker."

"He's that bad?" Gwen had to ask.

"Not bad, exactly, but...," Roxanne tried to find the words. "He's the Voice of the Authorities. Arguably he's the most powerful man in the Nightside."

"I thought that was John Taylor?" Gwen noted, peering back where the man in question was drinking with Suzie.

"I think everyone in the Nightside wants to see how that fight would play out," Roxanne admitted, "though I don't think that fight would end well for either of them."

"Hmm," Gwen nodded slightly. She nudged Roxanne's arm, "Drink up will you? You make me feel like a lush, drinking alone." As Roxanne agreeably drank some of her beer Gwen noted, "I've been working for you for a few months now, and you've never said how you got so good with a sword. It's not exactly a modern weapon..."

"No, true enough," Roxanne conceded. She drank a bit more beer, "When I was a lot younger, I trained with the London Knights."

"I've heard of them, they're supposedly the descendants of the Knights of the Round Table," Gwen acknowledged. "Uhm, but I thought they only let men be knights?"

Roxanne grinned and looked down at her breasts, "I was a lot flatter when I was a kid. I passed as a boy to most of the teachers, and the few who figured it out didn't care." She frowned, "But eventually the grandmaster found out, and..."

Sympathetically Gwen noted, "They gave you the boot?"

"Yeah," Roxanne agreed with a sigh, "after that I knocked around a bit, and eventually ended up in the Nightside."

Gwen figured there was more to the story than that, but she didn't want to press. Besides, she was pretty sure they had time. "Want to get some lunch?" she offered.

"As long as it's not here," Roxanne grinned, "Alex's snacks should be labeled as bioweapons."

To be continued...

Notes: The 'Springheel Jack' meme is a reference to a event in one of the novels, and the London Knights are from the latest Nightside novel, 'A Hard Days Knight.'


	3. Chapter 3

Free Agent

Three

Gwen de Veir HATED the Moratorium, the complex in a dimension next door to the Nightside that dealt with the dead. The pocket dimension was kept seperate for good reasons, with the staff charged as much with making sure things stayed dead as taking care of the remains. From cryogenics to necromancy they dealt with it all, and had some dangerous staff to handle emergencies.

Dead Boy was a young man who was murdered on a street corner for the money in his pockets. On the other side he made a deal with... something, and came back to avenge himself on the killers. Now he does good wherever he can, in hopes of balancing the books when whatever he made his deal with comes to collect.

Plus it was COLD. Gwen had picked out a midlength skirt and blouse combo, and now she deeply regretted it. At her side was a satchel where she carried various items she might need, and she had a pistol slung around her hip. It was a old, single shot model but was quite durable, and it could fire off custom shells.

The thin young man guzzled from a bottle of something that made Gwen's eyes water, then tossed down a handful of pills. "Want some?" Dead Boy offered with a slight smile.

"No thanks," Roxanne Lake shook her head, the handsome redheaded woman standing with Gwen as they waited for the shipment to arrive.

Gwen looked at the lovely redhead and smiled even as she felt her heart jump a bit in her chest. She had hired Roxanne to protect herself from some nuts chasing her because she was the reincarnation of Guenevere. Which was true, but they didn't have to try to kill her for it. Anyway Roxanne saved her life several times, and they ended up going into business together.

"Nice trench coat, by the way," Dead Boy noted, dressed in his own off-purple trench coat.

Roxanne shifted a bit in the used, tan trench coat that Gwen had bought her, and once again Gwen wondered if buying it for her was a good idea. But all the dangerous men in the Nightside, like Razor Eddie, Taylor and others wore the coats, and she thought it might build up Roxanne's reputation too. Especially since she was developing a bit of a name now too.

"Any idea when the shipment will get here?" Gwen asked, frowning as they waited by the gates. The two of them had been hired as insurance if anything went wrong, but the employer had been kind of evasive about what was coming. It made her nervous, but damn the money was good.

"Kid Cthulhu will be here soon," Dead Boy said dryly.

Gwen blinked at him weakly as she echoed, "Kid Cthulhu?"

"You didn't know before taking the job?" Dead Boy sounded amused.

"I KNEW the money was too good," Gwen muttered, shaking her head.

Roxanne unsheathed her sword from where she had it over her shoulder, clearly wanting t ready to go. "I thought John Taylor put him down?" she asked Dead Boy.

"He did," Dead Boy agreed, "cut him off from the thing that was empowering an shaping him, then killed him. But it looks like whatever changed him wants back in."

It was with that unnerving pronouncement that the herse arrived via dimensional shunt. Well, herse crossed with a freight truck to haul the large mass of organic crap. It was painted black, of course, and looked suspiciously armored.

Representatives of the Moratorium hurried out with equipment to haul the body out of the truck, and Gwen had to fight down the urge to retch at the smell. Kid Cthulhu was a bloated, grey mass of flesh, and somehow looked subtly wrong to her vision. The flesh moved and rippled slightly and while she hoped it was just escaping gasses, she felt certain ti was something else.

Suddenly the flesh on the Kid's belly tore, and a green tentacle lashed out, grabbing a worker and wrapping around him like a snake. "No!" he screamed, then began to smoke as whatever was on the tentacle burned him.

"Damn it," Gwen drew her bulky pistol and fired into the now writhing mass of flesh, even as Roxanne and Dead Boy leaped into action.

Sword drawn Roxanne chopped at the grabbing tentacle even as the man screamed in pain. "Let GO!" she roared.

The Dead Boy just leaped onto the Cthulhu thing and started punching away, his pale fists flying. Surprisingly that seemed to hurt it, and the tentacles just writhed around him, seemingly unsure what to do about him.

'Makes sense,' Gwen thought as she fired away into the thing's body, 'he's already dead. What else can the thing do to him?'

Roxanne chopped through the tentacle and the man dropped to the ground... in wo pieces. The 'ooze' on the gripper had apparently melted away his midsection. With a roar of pure rage she began to chop at the thing, even as Dead Boy ripped and tore.

Gwen pulled the pin on a special grenade as she called, "Roxanne, get clear!"

"What about me, damn it?" Dead Boy complained.

Ignoring that Gwen released the grip and tossed, the grenade arching up over the thing's body. It exploded and showed the corpse with holy water, mized liberally with a corrosive that a holy warrior that Gwen had met had recommended. The flesh of the Kid began to burn and smoke, though it was hard to tell if it was the holy water or acid doing it. Better yet, the tentacles slowed their thrashing.

A final, brutal thrashing made the mass f decaying flesh go still, and the workers retrned to haul it inside. Roxanne cleaned her sword as she grumbled, "They'd better have a good way to keep that from happening again."

"Supposedly," Dead Boy shrugged. He smiled wryly as he added, "More work for me if they screw up, of course."

Gwen glared at him, "And that poor worker who died?"

Dead Boy looked at her mildly, "He knew the job was dangerous when he took it." He casually fished a chocolate bar out of his pocket and wolfed it down, following it with a long drink out of a metal hip flask.

It took a few moments for the rep from the Moratorium to arrive and pay her and Roxanne off, as well as thanking them. "We saw you trying to save James," he noted quietly, the business suited man passing over the envelopes of cash, "we appreciate it, even if it didn't turn out well."

"Just doing what I could," Roxanne shrugged, actually blushing a bit.

Gwen his a smile as she noted how cute Roxanne could be. She tried to project the image of the world weary mercenary who just did what she did for cash, but she went out of her way to help clients. Hell, she ad even saved strangers during that Springheel Jack craziness. She was a softly, Gwen had decided, but tried to hide it.

"You need a ride back to town?" Dead Boy offered, nodding towards the futuristic car that had adopted him, more or less.

She wasn't sure if he was trying to make up for being a ass earlier or not, but Gwen accepted the offer. The three got in, and she and Roxanne got in the back while Dead Boy drove. "Thanks," Roxanne said discretely kicking some junk aside in the back seat.

"I needed to go to town for something anyway," Dead Boy shrugged as he fiddled with the car's incredibly complicated radio.

They relaxed in the back seat as the car cruised along silently. "I'm sorry I didn't check into this mess more," Gwen noted quietly.

"It's fine," Roxanne smiled as she put her hand over Gwen's, "you haven't steered me wrong yet."

"Thanks," Gwen sighed, letting her head rest on Roxanne's shoulder. They listened to the radio squeak as they passed through the dimensional rift between the graveyard and Nightside. "Wait, what was that?" she asked as she caught something on the radio.

"Just a second," Dead Boy said as he dialed back.

The harried announcer came on a second later. "I repeat, it has been confirmed that John Taylor has killed Walker. We're waiting for a announcement from the new Authorities."

"What the hell?" Roxanne blurted.

"Crap," Dead Boy breathed out, "Damn it, I missed that fight!"

Both women gave him a look, then listened to the reports drift in as they drove. Apparently something had triggered a final confrontation between the two men, but what no one knew. All everyone was sure of was Walker was dead, and Taylor had done it. There were rumors that he might even become the new Walker, but no one was sure of that.

"Where do you want me to drop you off?" Dead Boy asked.

Gwen exchanged a look with Roxanne. They'd normally go to Strangefellows to celebrate a successful case, but with this news rattling around... "Can you drop us off here?" she said, giving Dead Boy the address of the house they shared.

As Dead Boy pulled up, the doors of the future car automatically popped open. "It's been good working with you," Dead Boy noted, "call me if you need a hand someday."

"Thanks," Roxanne nodded and he drove off.

"I can't decide if he's a ass or just clueless," Gwen noted as they went inside the apartment building and took the elevator to her floor. Not long after she hired Roxanne Gwen had found out the other woman was living out f her office. She had pretty much argued Roxanne into moving into her apartmen, which worked out well for them both.

"Clueless," Roxanne offered as they reached the apartment door, "imagine being stuck as a teenager for years? It'd do strange things to you."

"True," Gwen agreed as they unlocked, then shut down the protective charms on their home until they got inside. They rose the defences again and relaxed a bit, unbuckling gun and sword, then relaxing in front of the telly.

"Let's see if we can find anything else on Taylor and Walker," Roxanne noted, frowning.

Sadly the news didn't have much more than what had already been reported. There had apparently been a period where Taylor and Walker were cooperating, they seemed to break apart, then had a confrontation that ended in Walker's death. Interestingly the fight happened at the hole into hell that was the Griffon's mansion, and everyone agreed that was symbolic, but symbolic of what no one was too sure.

"Do you think this will be good or bad for the Nightside?" Gwen asked as she let herself lean against Roxanne. It felt nice, relying on someone else to be strong for once. And it was even better knowing that Roxanne needed her, too.

"I dunno," Roxanne admitted as she unconsciously put her arm around Gwen's shoulders. "I mean, Walker was always a outsider, you know? At least Taylor is one of us."

"Hmm," Gswen sighed contentedly as she rested against Roxanne.

"But Taylor has cut and run on the Nightside before," Roxanne mused, "what if he does it again? We could be in deep."

"We'd figure out something," Gwen offered with a smile.

"I hope so," Roxanne sighed.

To be continued...

Notes: Considering that Kid Cthulhu was on his way to being a Lovecraftinan critter, it occurred to me his corpse might be a bit hard to deal with. So, this bit. The second half is inspired by the general lack of reaction to Taylor offing Walker in the books. It seemed to me it should freak at least some of the people out.


	4. Final

Free Agent

Final

Roxanne Lake looked up at the word 'Final' and scowled. "You have GOT to be kidding... our writer is crapping out on us?"

"Well, damn," Gwen de Veir scowled, the attractive blond shaking her head. "You just can't rely on writers anymore."

They and the rest of the usual suspects were in Strangefellows, getting drunk in celebration of the recent marriage of John Taylor and Shotgun Suzie. And boy was THAT a shock. Almost as insane as Taylor replacing Walker as the representative of the Authorities.

"They're ending the main Nightside books too," Roxanne shook her head mournfully as she said, "if you can't rely on Simon R. Green, who can you trust?"

"Damn right," Gwen sighed.

Dead Boy and his robot girlfriend were snuggling in one of the nearby booths, while several nuns from the Salvation Army Sisterhood tried to ignore it. Lesbian Naiads were sipping each other's water through straws and giggling, while fashion werewolves sneered at how badly everyone was dressed. In other words, it was a typical Nightside evening.

They headed up to the bar where Alex Morrisey was serving up drinks with his usual scowl. He dressed all in black because no one had yet found a darker color, and was arguably the grumpiest man in the Nightside. Well, usually... he did brighten up surprisingly when his girlfriend Cathy was around.

"Two beer," Roxanne ordered. As he was pouring she asked, "Now that the series is over what are you gonna do?"

"Eh, I'll keep busy," Alex shrugged uncomfortably, "I'm sure I'll get a cameo in one of Green's other books. Or a fan fiction series will pick me up."

"Yeah, probably," Gwen agreed reassuringly.

Both really figured he'd just fade away into minor character oblivion, but they didn't say anything. It would be needlessly cruel to a somewhat pitiful man. Instead they headed back to their booth, even as they listened to conversations.

"Did you hear about Miss Fate?" a voice asked another. Miss Fate was in fact the Nightside's very own transvestite superhero, sort of a pink garbed Batman.

"Got herself a sidekick," the other speaker nodded. "Boy or girl?"

"No one's quite sure..."

Roxanne snorted in amusement as they sat down. She took a sip of her drink, then put it down. "If the series is coming to a end, there's some things we should talk about," she said.

"Hit me," Gwen encouraged.

"The reincarnation of Lancelot that you were looking for," Roxanne took a nervous breath as she revealed, "it's me."

"I know," Gwen drank calmly.

"Huh?" Roxanne blinked.

Gwen gave her a look, "I'm not dumb, you know. While it's not exactly obvious, I can piut together two and two."

Roxanne flushed a bit, "So why didn't you say anything?"

"I was waiting for you to, I suppose," Gwen shrugged.

"Ah," Roxanne nodded. She sipped a bit of her beer, "I guess I've never been terribly comfortable about it... I mean, I don't want to JUST be a reborn hero."

"I can certainly agree with that," Gwen said wryly, even as Roxanne nodded.

"So," Roxanne mused as they drank, "What do we do now?"

"Well, we are being cancelled so...," Gwen drawled.

"You know what I mean," Roxanne said, "the Nightside has carried on after Green stopped writing it, I suspect we will too. So what do we do now?"

"This is a massive business opportunity, really," Gwen mused thoughtfully, "with Taylor becoming the new Walker, there's a opening for a new independant operator in the Nightside! We should seize the moment!"

Roxanne had meant what they should do personally, but that worked too. "Dead Boy might step into the gap too," she smiled. She liked to see this business-woman side to Gwen, anyway, she was cute when she got fired up.

"Pfft," Gwen waved that off, "Dead Boy is tough as hell, but he's too unreliable." She leaned forward, "And with the work we've done on your rep, this could be great!"

"Uh huh," Roxanne said skeptically. "No more crazy schemes like when you had me go kill that dragon, okay?"

"Hey, the dragon was suicidal and agreed to it all in advance," Gwen protested, pouting. "How was I supposed to know it would change it's mind and try to eat you?"

Roxanne snorted in amusement. "Dragons, by nature, are unethical and dangerous beasts," she pointed out reasonably.

"Yeah, yeah," Gwen sat back with a pout.

Roxanne chuckled as she sipped a bit more of her beer. Say what you would of Strangefellows, but the beer was good and deserved to be savoured. "Well, I'm glad it sounds like you're sticking around," she noted.

"Hmm?" Gwen asked.

"With everything ending, series wise, I was kind of worried you'd... uhm, move on..." Roxanne trailed off at the annoyed look on Gwen's face.

"You idiot," Gwen said flatly.

"Yes?" Roxanne answered weakly.

Gwen snorted with amusement at that, at least. "I am NOT hanging around you just because I'm your manager, damn it," she said intensely, "you know that, right?"

Roxanne blushed, looking away. "I did kind of hope," she admitted, the normal brash warrior looking shy.

"You're hopeless, you know that?" Gwen sighed. She abandoned her drink, then came around to the other side of the table where Roxanne was sitting.

Roxanne started, "What are you..."

Without a comment Gwen calmly plopped herself in Roxanne's lap. She smoothly wrapped her arms around her shoulders, smiled and kissed her lingeringly.

"Hmm." Roxanne sighed as they kissed, drawing the other woman closer reflexively.

Gwen pulled back, smirking at her. "Have I made my point?" she asked.

"Urgle," Roxanne managed incoherently.

"I think you broke her," a laughing older man commented.

Gwen laughed. "It takes more than that," she addressed the room.

Roxanne shook herself, "Wow." She stood wrapping her arms around Gwen as she squealed in surprise.

"Hey!" Gwen yelped.

"I think we need to take this somewhere private," Roxanne told Gwen as she headed for the stairs.

"Won't get any argument from me," Gwen murmured.

Over at the bar a older man finished his drink, smiling slightly. His companion, also a scruffy looking older man noted, "You shouldn't have spoke up, Kay. You nearly gave us away."

"Sorry, Arthur," Kay told his adopted brother with a smile, "I couldn't resist."

Arthur, once king of Briton, now wanderer and ally of the London Knights, chuckled a bit as he took a drink. He had come to the Nightside again, because he had heard rumours that his lost love was here. He had NOT expected to find her in the arms of his reincarnated best friend.

"You all right?" Kay asked perceptively.

Arthur put his drink down thoughtfully. "You know, I think I am," he admitted. While some part of him still loved Gwen, there was a lot of water under the bridge. Besides, she seemed happy with Lancelot, or 'Roxanne Lake' as they were calling her now.

"Well, let's go then," Kay suggested. "Places to go, worlds to save and all that."

"Yeah, way to ease the pressure on me, brother," Arthur laughed as they headed out into the Nightside too...

End.

Notes: Yeah, this was not one of my well received writing attempts. With the end of the Nightside novels I felt it was as good a time as any to end this. And it was fun having the characters get kinda meta and break the fourth wall.

The last bit with Arthur was my trying to address the fact that he's alive in the Nightside and therefore might be looking for his former beloved...

Anyway, thanks for reading.


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